


Leave Me, Hold Me

by Kaddi



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, hey fellas you're ever gay and tired, introspective, not the romantic kind (mostly)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaddi/pseuds/Kaddi
Summary: “Sora,” he calls carefully, but Sora doesn’t react. He continues, his boots thundering against the earth. The scowl on his face frames the storm brewing in his eyes. He only slows down when he comes to an abrupt halt in front of Riku.“You’re not leaving me again.”---Sometimes you run away, and sometimes your best friend wonʼt let you.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 78
Collections: Re⊕Collect: A Soriku Fic Collection





	Leave Me, Hold Me

It is suffocating.

Being at the Mysterious Tower used to be a comfort. Here, he had his loved ones close by and knew they were safe. Everything followed patterns and rules, down to the ever-changing rooms, so he had soon learned where all the exits were. The shadows weren’t haunting him. Staying here was a reprieve from the life he had led for the past couple years.

Now this same safety has turned inside out, trapping him within it. The familiar sights dig their claws into his skin and suck the life out of him. Wherever he goes, a set of eyes follows in constant scrutiny that is never voiced. His pale skin turns to glass, and it allows everyone to see through him. He grows restless—pacing through the halls as he searches for some place, _any_ place, that doesn’t feel draining. He’d used them all up. If just for a little while, he needs to _go_ somewhere far away from the stagnation here.

Still, it feels like he is trudging through molasses. Instead of impatience whisking him away, exhaustion drags at his limbs. The only other time he has felt this way was when he was left all alone in the Realm of Darkness. Giving up, leaving himself to fate—the pressure anchoring him grew ever stronger.

It’s different now. He has a way out; he is not trapped in a world unforgiving.

His breaking point comes one evening spent with incessant pacing that fades into an early night, where the sleep he chases won’t come. As it hadn’t for several days already. Frustrated, he stops in front of his bed, where a bag lies innocently by his feet. He packed it in another fit of anxiety and filled it with a couple of changes of clothes and non-perishable food—it could last him for up to a week.

Back then, he had managed to talk himself out of running away. He has responsibilities now. He’s a Master. He should be stronger than this.

He grabs the bag and flees his room.

* * *

The air outside is too warm and sweet. Magic whirls around him and tugs at his clothes as if it can tell that he’s about to do something stupid. It urges him to turn around and go back. He won’t listen.

Behind the Tower, there is a small landing site for Gummi Ships. There, his own ship waits for him. He hadn’t expected to get much use out of it when it was offered to him—he preferred to travel with someone else—but it comes in handy now. Leaving this way won’t be inconspicuous, but his Keyblade glider isn’t stable enough for inter-world travelling. Hopefully, by the time the others notice, he will be long gone.

He puts a hand against the hull. The material feels like sun-warmed metal, though there is no sun in this realm. No turning back.

When he steps inside, he has to hunch to not hit his head against the ceiling. He had only bothered to modify the sleeping compartment to accommodate his height. He always told himself he would get to the rest later. Now it is later, and he’ll have to deal with it. He strokes over the control panel, grimacing at the thick coat of dust. Neither has he been invested in the upkeep as much as he should have. He has been... failing a lot of responsibilities. He shakes his head and throws his bag through the door into the bedroom before he goes back to the entrance to cast one last look at the Tower. The suddenness of his actions is slow to catch up to him, yet the Tower looming so far above him tugs at his heart. Weak enough to not sway him from his decision; strong enough to make him pause. That is when he hears something—layered over the sound of his heartbeat, the magic whispers to him: Sora is coming. Riku exits his ship and watches him arrive.

Unlike him, Sora has not changed out of his combat gear yet. Smears of dirt and blood still stain his skin. It seems like he forgot to change out of it again. It happens, sometimes, that reality takes some time to catch up to them. He wonders how long he must have sat in his room, motionless, glassy eyes staring at the wall or out of the window, and what finally made him move. Riku’s heart must have given him away.

“Sora,” he calls carefully, but Sora doesn’t react. He continues, his boots thundering against the earth. The scowl on his face frames the storm brewing in his eyes. He only slows down when he comes to an abrupt halt in front of Riku.

“You’re not leaving me again.”

Riku averts his gaze from the lightning crackling in Sora’s eyes and turns his head, looking at the door to his ship, his escape from the rogue wave that surges before him.

Sora hisses his name and grabs his hand. Instinctively, he clenches his hand around Sora’s. It burns like ice. The wave comes crashing down on him, so viciously he fears to drown before he can even gasp for air. But then it’s gone, gone, as quickly as it came, and his head breaks the water. Sora’s words ring in his ears as he looks back to him from the corner of his eye. Would he do something like that...? Leave... Sora?

“I won’t,” he whispers. He could never convince his heart to do it.

“Then what’s this?” Sora asks. The anger seething behind his words is gone and he appears so much smaller.

Riku bites his lip, and his eyes flit back to the door.

“Riku, talk to me.” Sora steps closer, though he stops immediately when Riku flinches. “Please.”

The crack in Sora’s voice breaks something in him. He turns back and looks at him just as the first tears spill from Sora’s eyes. His heartbeat turns so loud it almost overshadows Sora’s own in his alarm. He swallows and forces the next words out through the vice grip around his throat:

“Come with me.”

“Always.”

Sora’s reply is instant, not one moment wasted to consideration. Simple as that, without question, he follows after Riku.

* * *

With Sora, the cockpit is even more cramped than before. Riku climbs into the driver’s seat while Sora settles into the space next to him, squeezed between the armrest and the wall. It’s silent while Riku turns on the engine and initiates take-off, but his thoughts are anything but quiet. He would hide if he could. Being this close to Sora is setting him on edge. At his side, Sora absentmindedly rubs at his eyes. Afterward, he inspects his lightly dampened sleeve. Riku should say something: apologize, probably, for trying to run away without telling anyone—without telling _Sora_ , most importantly. But he doesn’t.

Once they breach the world’s border, the Tower’s magic lets them go with one last push and a “safe travels”. Riku takes a deep breath, refusing to look back. It’s colder out here with no love to warm it. Yet he already feels a small weight lift from his shoulders at finally being _out._ Sora yawns, leaning his head against the armrest, and peers up at Riku.

“What’s the plan?” he asks, his voice mellowed out as though everything is okay now.

For his part, Riku is still stewing on their confrontation and it almost makes him want to not answer. There aren’t many pathways open right now—he can only think of a handful of options offhand, none of which seem appealing. What he needs is a place where he can run, somewhere he can scream if need be. He scoffs.

“Do you know a deserted island?” he asks flatly, humour stuck behind his teeth.

“You mean, like the play island?”

The place they left behind. Their universe used to be so small; it was home, more so than the main island. But it stopped being that, for Riku at least, at some point. He couldn’t say exactly when after the Fall. He still feels fondness for those bygone days but... too many memories connect him to that place, too many thorns that weave together to try to ensnare him. All their childhood that they spent there. It’s where they played and laughed, it’s where they fought and cried. It’s where he fell. Darkness is as closely tied to that place as Light. It’s empty.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t know any,” Sora says airily, “but I have another idea.”

Sora hefts himself into a squat and Riku quickly pulls his arm into his lap as Sora puts his hand on the armrest. He flattens himself against the seat as much as possible while Sora leans over him to punch the coordinates into the console. This way he can’t see where they are headed, but that is probably for the best.

“It’s gonna take a while to get there. What do you wanna do?”

Sora pulls back a bit, turning halfway to look at Riku. More than anything, he wants to reach out and tuck the lock of hair falling into Sora’s eyes behind his ear. Such a silly thought. Instead, he clenches his fist and keeps it in his lap. For the first time tonight, he really _looks_ at Sora. The bags under his eyes run deeper than usual and his eyes are drooping even now. The arm supporting him on the console trembles slightly. There’s only one thing Sora should be doing.

“You should sleep.”

Sora shrugs. “Not any more than you. I’m fine.”

His way of saying “not without you”. Does he think that Riku could leave him behind while he slept? That he would wake all alone to find him gone? With a pang to his chest, he realizes that this is exactly what would have happened had Sora not tagged along. Even if he leaves his side, he could still follow his Dream Eater duties, so he hadn’t thought of it. It got lost in the turmoil. Now, though he is too tense to consider sleep, he also wants Sora to rest.

“I’ll go with you.”

Sora smiles slightly. His arm gives out, but he tries to mask it by dropping back to the ground next to Riku. “Okay.”

At least the ship’s software is updated, which allows him to set it on auto-pilot. Lately, it has been peaceful; sightings of Heartless ships are rare. Which is what allowed him to escape like this in the first place. Before, when it was teeming with Heartless, they required permission (in Sora’s case) or advanced notice (in Riku’s case) to leave so the shields could be lowered. Otherwise, the magic would hold them back. Even as a Master, he couldn’t breach them. Defenses have been fortified since the Tower became their temporary home base while they sort through training regiments, war processing, feelings, and whatever else. He should start on the feelings part sometime soon—it’s been hard enough to accept them as they are. Working through them while the threat of death loomed over him at every turn made him tired. The edges and shards he found dug into his core while he searched for the place they belong. He had hoped he could lay them out and leave them be for at least a little bit—so he could curl up around his heart and let it heal before facing this task with new energy.

A lot of good that did him.

* * *

The sleeping compartment has no windows. The only light comes from the lamp fixed to the ceiling. Riku slaps the switch with more force than necessary, shielding his eyes from the harsh, artificial light. The bulb’s faint buzzing joins the whirring of the ship’s engine coming through the walls. Despite that, he has a proper bed, so it is comfortable enough. He never thought much of it. But Sora’s eyes almost twinkle as he looks around.

“No bunk beds!” he whispers excitedly.

Turning his attention away from him, Riku rummages through his bag. If they plan to rest, they should get out of these clothes. He wrinkles his nose—and he should probably get Sora under the shower if possible, too. He snags one of his shirts and throws it to Sora, who catches it with his face, and puts out a tank top for himself.

“Keep those for yourself,” Sora says, suddenly leaning over him to look at the bag’s contents. He points at the pyjama pants Riku wanted to hand him. “Your shirt’s so big on me, I’ll just wear my boxers underneath.”

Riku shrugs, subtly curling in on himself. “If you’re sure.”

For a moment, Sora’s hand hovers in the air. Then he pulls away and straightens.

“We should get ready for bed, huh?”

“Yeah.” He looks over to Sora, a smirk crookedly hanging on his lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Sora manages a smile.

By the time they sit on the bed together, Sora looks more tired than before. Still, he doesn’t attempt to sleep yet. He had claimed the headboard, holding the pillow to his chest, so Riku took the other side, his knees pulled up. The blanket covers both of their legs.

“I’ll turn off the light now,” Riku says.

“Okay,” Sora says.

Darkness envelops them completely. He can’t see Sora anymore, though his stare is just as heavy. When had he last truly needed sight to sense him? The sound of his breathing, the warmth of his body, his heart, even clearer and brighter than in the light—these things are still here. He hasn’t spent years in darkness for nothing. The bond between them lives on.

Sora has been unusually quiet so far. Especially now, Riku misses his voice. There’s something weighing on his mind, yet Riku cannot find the words to ask him to speak it. Isn’t that cruel? He no longer knows how to talk to his best friend. On the battlefield, it was easy to find what Sora needed from him. Now his hand stays at his side, and his heart stays quiet. It beats in secret. Perhaps it started after they saved the universe and his own world came crashing down on him. He built support beams and new walls far less intricate than the ones holding him steady before. Suddenly the song that connects them only filters in faintly from outside those walls. He sits in the rubble and wonders how often he will have to build himself anew until happiness finds its way home to him. Until his heart is truly free.

Sleep pulls at him, not yet strong enough to force him to follow it. Maybe Sora has fallen asleep and the time is close for Riku to support him in one of the only ways he still knows how. Being Sora’s Dream Eater is freeing. It pushes his heart to its outer bounds; in the dreamscapes, there are no borders to hold him in. Not around, or below, or above. The ease with which he can follow his heart would scare him if it weren’t so exhilarating. When he arrives before nightmares take hold, he can get a peek at Sora’s dream. Not often, and never on purpose. But he can’t deny the pull it has on him or the warmth that spreads through him. Diving in appears like the only sensible thing to do when it’s anything but. He doesn’t dare to think about spending a regular dream together with Sora.

“Hey, Riku?”

Oh, so he _is_ still awake. It must have been his own exhaustion catching up to him. Riku tears himself from his thoughts and hums to show he is listening.

“Remember when you used to tell me stories under the blankets?”

“We used a flashlight because you didn’t like the dark, but my mother always chided us for it.”

He smiles into his knees. She used to claim the blanket would catch on fire, but it never did. Even though Sora and he both had glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on the ceiling along with the stars and the moon outside, Sora insisted they huddle close under the covers. They don’t need a flashlight anymore. Riku summons a spark of light magic to his fingertips.

“I loved your stories.” Sora sounds wistful, watching the light dance.

“I loved telling them,” Riku replies quietly.

He stopped when he got older—he stopped with a lot of things that they used to share, when they grew beyond his carefully groomed flowerpot and twisted around his limbs. His stories, as fantastical as they were, shared a common root. Sora was his king and Riku was his knight, Riku was the pirate captain and Sora was his first mate, Sora was the sun and Riku was the star. He lost count of how many stories he told. They were all the same at heart.

Sora summons his own spark to dance with Riku’s own. His gaze remains fixed on them. “We chased each other a lot, but we were together. Always... even in your stories, we were always together.”

He draws a shaky breath.

“Hey, Riku?”

“Yeah?”

Sora clenches his hand as though he was grasping an invisible hand.

His spark extinguishes. “What happened?” Riku’s magic flickers.

“I was chasing after you for so long, and now that I finally have you back, it still feels like not _all_ of you is here. Or maybe I’m the one who never came back completely.”

The words strike him like an icicle. The magic rises in one last gleam of hope before it disappears to Riku’s frozen form.

Sora shifts slightly and laughs. It cuts through him. “Sorry. It’s silly, don’t listen to me.”

With a sharp inhale, his heart restarts and Riku sucks in another breath. “It’s not silly! What you feel isn’t silly.” His voice is too loud to his ears.

“So what if it isn’t? Would that matter?” Sora sighs. “I could say the same to you.”

“Sora...?”

Sora doesn’t answer him. Riku doesn’t move, his hand still suspended in the air between them. So they sit in the dark. It settles over him like a blindfold—yet another blindfold, like the one he wore during his first year alone. He got rid of it, but still it finds its way back. It offers the same comfort now as it did then. There is no light to obscure who he is or to tell him how to be. Nothing to shine on him and expose him. In the dark, it is just him, no pretenses, no justifications.

“Riku, talk to me,” Sora pleads. “Why are you so far away?”

But he can’t hide away from everything. There’s only so much solace he can take in it, so many secrets he can keep before the light will die away. Before his light, before _Sora,_ turns away. He had already pushed him away before, and it was only Sora’s steadfast belief and tenacity that brought them back together. He can’t keep relying only on that. If he wants them to stay together, he’ll need to take the blindfold off and show himself. Between his fears and the lies, and Sora, he will always choose Sora.

Renewed with his determination, a flame flickers in his palm. It burns in Sora’s eyes as they meet Riku’s own. His tongue feels like lead in his mouth, but... he wants to try.

“I’ll tell you why... I’m scared.

My fall to darkness... the jealousy... I know why that happened now. I learned a lot about myself and I’ve had to come to terms with a lot of stuff. It hasn’t been easy. Even still, there are things I just don’t understand. Maybe never will. And maybe I’m scared of what you will find if I let you look.”

“I’m not,” Sora says. “I’m not scared at all. Whatever is there, it’s _you_ , that’s all that matters to me.”

“I don’t want to drag you into this.”

“And I _like_ getting dragged into it. I want to be with you, no matter what, and I won’t let you push me away. As long as–” and for the first time, Sora falters; his voice that steadily rose in strength bends. “As long as you want that, too.”

Riku puts his other hand between them, a tentative offer, unable to be more daring. “I want nothing more.”

It’s not quite true. Inside, he longs for far more, but he’s not ready to share that.

Sora looks from him to his offered hand and eventually gently touches his fingertips to Riku’s. The contact sends a jolt through him but he doesn’t pull away. Not this time.

“Then don’t make me chase you. I get that you need your space sometimes but... you don’t even tell me _that._ You’re here with me and then suddenly you’re not and I don’t know why. I have my own hurt, too—and I’d rather hurt together with you than be alone anymore.”

Riku breaks their eye contact. It feels like defeat, but he pushes against the gates in his heart threatening to fall shut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t...” _realize I was doing it? Think it mattered?_ He sighs in frustration and pushes his hair back, leaving the flame to float on its own. The words tumble back down his throat while he swallows around them. They taste like ash. Sora is honest with him, but he can’t be, because what? He is afraid of his best friend knowing how much he cares about him. How much he loves him, however this love may look like. In the process, he’s hurting him again. Sora has already seen the worst of him, has gladly let himself be impaled on his sword, and still, this is where he fears rejection. For something that should be beautiful. Something that would become a burden. If Sora knew how much he cares, he would surely be swallowed by it the same way Riku is.

Sora covers his hand with his own. The warmth seeps into his skin.

He tentatively intertwines their fingers.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he blurts out, staring at where they are connected. “But I don’t know how to let you be closer. I’m worried... that things will change and that you will hate me. Sometimes it hurts so bad I can’t breathe and—I’m sorry. I know you won’t, not you, but still... I’m sorry.”

He inhales sharply, blinking away tears. There is more he needs to say or explain, but he can’t.

Sora lifts his hand and cups the flame floating between them. It settles on his palm like it is at home there, flickering happily. “It’s okay,” Sora says softly.

He taps his finger against the flame and it flashes a bright yellow, then settles into a gentler orange hue. Their magic twirls around each other in harmony. When Riku squints, he can still faintly make out the red and yellow before he has to blink and it smudges back into orange. Sora raises their joint hands and presses them against the one holding the flame.

“We can figure this out together.”

“It won’t be pretty. Do you know what you’re getting into?” Riku asks, yet can’t help the relief settling in his chest.

Sora smiles at him, small and fragile.

“When has that ever stopped me? I know I want to be with you, and you want to be with me. We’re stronger together. And I know it’s not as easy at that, but I believe in us.”

Riku closes his eyes. “And I believe in you.”

“I love you, Riku.”

It hurts, a bit, how easily Sora can say it. “I love you, too, Sora.” _More than you know._

He takes one deep breath and gathers himself. Their conversation left him tired and drained, although his heart feels freer than it has in weeks.

“Let’s actually sleep now,” he says lightly.

Sora giggles— _giggles_ , a sound that Riku had missed so dearly—and nods.

“Yeah, let’s not unpack _all_ of that in a single night.”

They exchange a silent look of gratitude and then Riku moves to Sora’s side so they can lie down. Sharing a pillow means they’re a bit closer than he’d like. He’s not too bothered though. For his part, Sora seems perfectly content. After a yawn and a goodnight, he is out like a light. The resulting pull almost drags Riku under, but he struggles to stay awake a bit longer. It’s awkward and yet comforting to have Sora so close. They exist so easily, so naturally together in moments like these that he almost wonders why he questions it at all. Sora’s hand rests between them and he puts his next to it, close enough that they are touching. He’s falling apart right in front of Sora, but they will build themselves up together, with each other. For the first time today, the smile comes easy. He stops resisting and lets Sora’s even breathing lull him to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, he wakes up after a dreamless and restful sleep. They’re not lying next to each other anymore. Not exactly. Instead, they somehow moved closer to each other during the night. Now their legs are tangled together, and their fingers are loosely intertwined. Sora’s other hand is cradling the back of Riku’s head, gently guiding it so that their foreheads are touching. They are closer than they’ve been in weeks. Still heavy with sleep and safely cocooned in the darkness, he allows himself to appreciate it. Doubt can’t catch up to him here. He hadn’t realized how much he really missed this until he got it again. He never stopped craving Sora’s touch; that didn’t mean it was easy to accept, even harder to ask for it. Somewhere along the line, this feeling got lost in the turmoil.

Struck by the desire to see Sora with him, he summons his magic again to illuminate the room. Little balls of light rise and spread through the room, hanging on invisible lines of thread like fairy lights. Everything is doused in a soft, colourful glow. They faintly remind him of the lanterns Sora showed him a photo of once. He hasn’t seen them for himself yet, but Sora promised to take him one day. He wants to hold him to that promise. For now, he props himself up on his elbow and looks down at Sora. He’s drooling. Riku laughs softly. Good to know that some things don’t change. He wipes his own cheek, just in case some drool got on him, too.

Whether it’s from his laughter or the movement, Sora’s eyes flutter open. Riku stills, holding his breath. A huge smile breaks on Sora’s face, and he reaches up. His hand falls just short of Riku’s face, so he settles his hand on his shoulder instead.

“I’m not dreaming, right?” he croaks, sleep still clinging to his voice.

“I hope not,” Riku replies.

Sora nods seriously. “Good. I like real Riku more.”

Riku snorts and quickly ducks his head to hide his face. But Sora starts snickering, and he knows he’s lost this fight. He’s always been weak to Sora’s laughter. They both giggle, slightly delirious from just waking up. Riku lets himself fall on his back, laughing together with his best friend. He’s missed this. All of it.

“Hey, Sora?” he asks once they have calmed down. When he glances to his side, he finds Sora already looking back at him.

“We’ll do it together. I’ll be there for you.”

Sora grins.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the Re⊕Collect zine! Make sure to check out the other entries, too! Leave a comment if you liked it c:  
> Thank you everyone for your hard work and the amazing experience. A special thank you to the two mods, kei and Steph, and to my two betas, Anna and Harley <3


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